


First Day of My Life

by drawingblinds (orphan_account)



Category: The West Wing
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-12-27
Updated: 2005-12-27
Packaged: 2017-12-23 13:52:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/927263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/drawingblinds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I wasn't born in a hospital, I was born in the back of my parents' car, we were only two minutes away."</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Day of My Life

You were the first day of my life. The universe split in two and reformed itself in a dazzling, vibrant array of light, colour and meaning as though I had stepped from the shadows of understanding for the very first time, and immediately I saw myself as standing on the cusp of a new beginning as I stared into your sparkling eyes. The old Sam Seaborn was another man entirely, someone shallow and entirely undeserving who studied law at a top college because it seemed like a good idea, who cared for a girl but didn't love her, who held thousands of words in his heart and mind but had never thought that they could spin fire, could part the seas, could hold up a mirror to men's souls until they understood the beauty within and cried for the lives they could lead. In twenty-one years my soul had never spoken, and now it screamed. All because I had turned a corner too quickly in the smoky bar I frequented, collided with a pillar and spilled a pint of beer right down your shirt.

I was too shocked to speak. The feeling of being a different person in a different reality, as though the pillar had knocked me tumbling wide-eyed into another world, was too overwhelming for me to understand what I'd just done. So I stared at you like an idiot, far closer to believing in God at that moment than I had ever been before.

You were taller than me, paler, with bushy red-brown hair that had been clipped short, and two deep dimples at the sides of your mouth that seemed to me the centre of your existence. Your mouth was moving; clean, white teeth flashing at me from between slightly thin lips as you held up your palms in the way I now know you do when you're feeling defensive. "You want to watch where you're going, man," you said, your tone light yet unmistakeably annoyed, and suddenly I felt quite nauseous and glad that I hadn't started that next beer. When I failed to respond, concern crept into your expression. "Are you okay?" You put your hand on my arm, and I felt my knees buckle and vision blur as my stomach flipped, and I knew without a doubt that I was going to vomit. I tried to speak, but my mouth was parched and refused to form a sound, so I turned and rushed towards the bathroom, where I doubled over in the nearest stall and emptied my stomach.

I was still sitting on the floor minutes later, ashen and sweating, clutching the toilet bowl as a man drowning in endless possibility, when you touched my shoulder cautiously and handed me a glass of water. "How much did you drink?" You asked, laughing.

"I can't even remember." The words were rushed and slurred - I had gone from a man unable to speak at all to a man who couldn't speak quickly enough. I looked around at the blistering white of the tiles and ceiling and wished for somewhere dark and cool. And then, because it seemed important, "I wasn't born in a hospital."

"Dude, you haven't taken anything, have you?" I noticed you remove your hand, distancing yourself, unsure what you'd got yourself into.

"No! No, I'm okay. Just too much drink." Your hand was back on my shoulder, and my head was reeling. "I wasn't born in a hospital, I was born in the back of my parents' car, we were only two minutes away. I don't know why I keep saying that."

"I think we need to get you home. I'm Josh, by the way." You turned me round, and your smiling face made my breath catch. I had that feeling again, the one that told me I was standing at a precipice and staring into the million swirling hues of my future.

"Sam. I'm at Princeton, it's only about two blocks from here."

"Okay Sam. Come on." You draped my arm around your shoulder and helped me up. I only felt a little shaky as we left the bar and walked through the still night towards my dorm, but I was glad of you supporting me. "What are you studying then?"

"Law. Not sure why any more. Do you -"

"I'm working the campaign. Johnson for Congress. Not sure I know why either." You laughed, but it had a harsh cadence to it this time. "It's just a line on my resumé really."

"Well, as long as you don't expect me to vote for him," I deadpanned.

"You're not a Republican - are you?"

The shock in your voice made me laugh, and I could feel you glaring at me. "No, of course not, but I'd rather vote Reynolds than Johnson. At least she knows what she's talking about. I'm not even sure what your guy's standing for, except that he's standing for the seat."

Your laugh was lighter this time, and it made me smile to think that I could make this man, so much older and worldlier than me, laugh at my jokes. "I don't understand that, but I doubt you can reason when you're off your face in the middle of the night. So what do you want to do, if it isn't law?"

"I have no idea." I paused, suddenly startled by my need to open up and confess all. "To be honest, I had a bit of an epiphany tonight - hence the whole walking into you and spilling a lot of beer thing - and it's like I've been asleep and I just woke up, only now I'm not even sure who I am." The end of the sentence turned into a slur as I tripped over the kerb and cursed loudly.

"Woah, you're okay there." You took my weight and pulled me up, and suddenly I was inches away from you face, illuminated by a lone streetlight on the quiet sidewalk. As I looked at you I suddenly began to understand how my world had changed, and barely breathing, placed my lips on yours.

I hardly know what I expected, but I wasn't at all prepared for you to kiss me back almost immediately, as if you had been expecting this moment all night. You pulled me to him and dipped your tongue into my mouth, battling with urgency and desire, obviously practiced. My mind was racing: I liked girls. I had a girlfriend! And yet here I was, kissing a strange man on a New Jersey street - it was baffling, yet I knew inside that I wanted this more than I had ever wanted anything, that my life of complacency and stupor had ended and something else, something unknown and frightening, but more exciting that I could have imagined had commenced, and you were the reason for it all.

So there you have it, Josh. They say the procedure will take twelve to fifteen hours, so I guess all I can do is pop two aspirin and wait. Just promise me one thing - that you won't die until I've told you this, and told you that I still love you even now, despite all we've been through together. 

Don't die.


End file.
